


like always.

by yunakims



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, i just. really love ashley and wish her everything good in the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunakims/pseuds/yunakims
Summary: Your blades are always there for you to return to.





	like always.

**Author's Note:**

> i love ashley wagner way too much.
> 
> i guess this is a feel-good fic for me? i felt so down so i decided to write this to give myself some hope.
> 
> i was honestly expecting the usfsa's decision to not send ashley to the olympics but i was still hurt by the time they announced it. it's inevitable, though, i am an ashley fan after all.
> 
> still, i hope everything goes well for the ladies. all the love.

You start the day carrying something heavy inside your chest — an ache; a dull, throbbing ache that you've felt since the day before. It's been there for quite a while, and it doesn't help you with anything, but you push yourself forward, like always.

 

 

You get on the ice at six-thirty in the morning. It's been almost a week yet it's still there; that ache. It's not as painful but it is there, sitting inside your chest and constantly reminding you of the things you've done, the things you haven't done, and the things you could have done.

You're near the boards, blowing your nose on a tissue. Your coach is not in the rink at the moment, and you have a little free time to yourself before he comes, so you decide to go over to your best friend on the other side of the rink.

Adam starts talking to you like normal, but some of his speech is ignored. He seems to notice this, and stops talking to ask, “are you okay, Ash?”

And that's the question you have for yourself, too.

Are you okay, Ash?

So you nod. Of course you have to nod. That's what Adam is expecting. That's what everyone is expecting. They expect you to be strong, so you try to be.

What you said to the press in the previous days proved it. You're strong, you can get over this, you can fight.

_“I'm furious,” you had said to them, trying to calm the intense beating of your heart as you say the words._

_The lights are flashing above you and you feel like your world is upside down as every camera shutter makes a sound that is almost engraved onto your brain. “Do you deserve to be on the Olympic team?” One reporter asks you._

_You look at her and ponder quickly. Do you deserve to be on the Olympic team? Do you deserve the same honor you received four years ago?_

_You blink. “Yes,” you reply, ending it with a quiet ‘thank you’ and walking away, the sound of camera shutters ringing in your ears even when the reporters are gone._

Adam sighs. “I know you're not, Ash.”

“Yeah,” you answer him, looking down at your skate boots as you take a deep breath. They're still there; intact and fairly new since you got them this week and took a break away the ice for a bit.

You don't really have any big competition to train for, so what's the point?

 

 

Your fellow competitor and friend Mirai calls you that night. “Ashley, I'm not only going to compete there for myself and the USA. I'll be competing for you, too.”

The air in your apartment is suddenly too cold. A bitter feeling settles itself in your stomach, but you ignore it because the whole situation overwhelms you.

“Thank you. I wish you the best,” you tell her. You end the call right after she says goodbye, willing yourself to not cry. It's not the time to cry over things.

But eventually, you stop holding back. Hot, heavy tears slowly start streaming down your face and you sob quietly, clutching a throw pillow and hugging it tightly to your chest.

You remember your coach's words.

_Sometimes it's better to cry._

 

 

A few days later you start feeling better. Not _better_ better, but better nonetheless. You're back in the rink. Four Continents is not that big of a competition compared to the ones that come after it, but it's still a competition.

You're tying your boots when the thought hits you.

 _You'll do_ _great, Ashley._

That's what the fans on Twitter had to say when you tweeted the other day. It made you feel light. People still believe in you, so why would you stop believing in yourself? That's just senseless. Why waste time mulling over the things you can't change, when there's still a whole future ahead of you?

So you tighten your laces, eager to step onto the ice and train, eager to feel the same contentment and joy that you have been feeling for more than ten years on that cold, hard surface that you almost call home.

 

 

It'll be okay. It'll be fine.

You close your eyes and strike your initial pose in the middle of the ice. Spectators from all over the world are watching you, eyes glued to your form as you move along with your chosen music.

And you feel it. You're no longer in the dark. You're feeling better, like the pain is no longer unbearable; like the pain is not there anymore. It's not in your chest. You've managed to dispell it.

_Her technicality is just... not there._

_Wagner is a little too old anyway. She'll retire soon._

You feel your worries breaking free once more as you go into your final spins. The audience cheers. Your mind is going haywire — haywire like the intense swaying of leaves as a particularly strong gust of wind hits them, haywire like the scratching and tracing of your blades on the ice; beautiful, familiar.

Your blades are always there for you to return to.

You feel tears welling in your eyes as you strike your blade down. The crowd erupts in cheers for you, some standing up to show you how much they appreciate you and your passion for skating. The tears stream down your cheeks peacefully, and you don't bother covering your face as you bow sincerely to them.

There are some faces in the crowd that you recognize, faces that have been with you from the start and are still with you to this day. You bow to them especially, wanting to apologize for disappointing them, but they smile and shake their heads. One of them holds up a banner.

_ASHLEY, YOU'LL ALWAYS BE OUR CHAMPION!_

And you keep crying.

 

 

You start the day carrying something light inside your chest — pride; a pounding, pulsating feeling. It's finally back after so long, and it reminds you that you're still here, always ready to fight back.

So you push yourself forward, like always.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm lutzyuna on twt if u wanna follow!!


End file.
